Manifest Destiny
by penvssword
Summary: This is the first fanfic I've written in a while, and my first posted fic, so please bear with me. It centers around my original X-Men character, Blackout. My chapters are also quite short, but hopefully people won't mind too much. I'd love some feedback.
1. Shock Therapy

Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe  
  
As Aubrey Lowe, freestyle extraordinaire, sped through the water, all she could afford to think about was her strokes. Not how this was her big chance- swimmers from Nationals attracted a lot of attention from the Olympic team- or about the seven page essay she had due when she got back to Garfield High in her hometown of Seattle, WA, or even how it would, most likely, be raining when she got back.  
  
Her hand touched the wall for the split-second needed to flip-turn for her last length of the pool. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe. She was little more than a black streak in the water.  
  
As she finally touched the rough cement of the wall to finish, she saw something odd. No, she thought, she'd felt something odd. She shrugged it off and turned in the water, meaning to ask her friend Sarah, who was in the next heat, what her time had been, but Sarah wasn't even looking at her. She was staring at the water, mouth and eyes wide with horror. Aubrey swirled around to see seven forms floating in the water, seemingly devoid of life. Reacting immediately from her training as a lifeguard, she crossed into the lane beside her to bring the nearest to the edge of the pool. Swimmers and lifeguards around her rushed to rescue the rest.  
  
Medics surrounded her as she laid the girl, who still breathed, thank God, though erratically, on the tile floor. The words "electric shock" were repeated several times to a general agreement, and Aubrey stood outside the medic's circle, horrified. A voice came on the intercom, but she didn't hear it. Electric shock? And she wasn't like them... how? Then the reality struck her: she had, somehow, done this. A lifeguard put his hand on her shoulder, clearly hoping to soothe her, but she angrily brushed it away and ran for the locker room.  
  
----  
  
"Storm, you really should see this," said Scott for what must have been the fifth time.  
  
"What?" she asked, finally coming into the plush recreation room of the Xavier Institute. She followed his gaze to the TV.  
  
"And in sports news, teams are now investigating the electric shock of seven of the nation's top swimmers a few moments ago. All seven were in the first heat of the women's 200 meter freestyle. The eighth competitor, Aubrey Lowe, was miraculously unhurt. Sabotage is suspected..."  
  
"It sounds like mutant work," said Storm unhappily.  
  
"That's what I thought, too. But Xavier said no mutant he knows of has truly electrical powers," Scott replied, adjusting the glasses he wore to keep his eyes from destroying all he saw.  
  
"This girl... has anyone seen her since the accident?" asked Storm thoughtfully.  
  
"Why? Do you think we might have another student?"  
  
"I believe so."  
  
They turned off the TV and rushed to Xavier's office, swiftly opening the large oak door.  
  
"Yes?" asked a calm voice, "Oh, I see... why don't you two take the jet down there?"  
  
It didn't surprise either of them that voice was only in their heads. They nodded and ran out.  
  
----  
  
Finally regaining enough of her wits to open the combination lock on her locker, Aubrey hurriedly peeled off her swimsuit and changed into the black t-shirt and jeans she'd stuffed into her locker for that party that would've followed the closing ceremonies. Ripping off her swim cap, she quickly tossed it into her swim bag, where it landed atop her suit. Taking a quick look in the mirror, she did a double take: her normally choppy, short brown hair was bleached a bright blonde at the bottom. She ripped herself away from her reflection to find a dark-skinned woman with white hair coming towards her. Aubrey probably wouldn't have noticed her hair color, except that it was fully a bright, unnatural white, and a bit creepy. She wasn't one of the swimmers, Aubrey knew, and wasn't wearing the uniform of the medics, either.  
  
"What're you doing here?" Aubrey blurted out. Perhaps it was a bit impulsive, but she was a little on edge at the moment.  
  
"Aubrey Lowe, I assume?" said the woman calmly. "I've come to help you."  
  
"That's probably what they tell psychopaths before they take them away," mused Aubrey. "At any rate, I am not going with you, no matter what the hell you tell me."  
  
"What if I told you I know what you are?" asked the woman.  
  
"Then I'd say you need to be locked up even more than I do," said Aubrey, anger boiling in her.  
  
"Come on, it's not that bad, really," said the woman, coming near her to give her a hug.  
  
Aubrey shouldered past the woman, who tried to grab her arm as she went by. Flexing her bicep, Aubrey broke the woman's grip, and ran without another word. Her steps took her swiftly down the hallway, and she raced out the fire exit, ignoring the alarms that screamed as the door opened.  
  
The tip-tap of high heels followed her, and Aubrey turned to see the woman sprinting after her. Spinning back around, she barely glimpsed the man before running into him. He let out an indistinguishable grunt as she slammed into his stomach. Looking up, Aubrey saw a pair of sunglasses, with an odd ruby tint to them. Intuition told her this man was in league with the woman she'd seen earlier, and her gut instinct was to keep running.  
  
Aubrey couldn't withhold her reaction as the man tried to put an arm around her. She pushed him away, but as she did, she felt something cross through the contact. A damp thud marked the man's impact with the ground, and Aubrey looked down momentarily to see him lying there, muscles tensed and a look of pain on his face. She ran as she saw the woman coming closer, shock and fear prominent in her face.  
  
----  
  
Wolverine looked in an equal balance of surprise, fear, and amusement at the scene unfolding in the infirmary. Cyclops had taken a little fall, then. Served him right for being such an uppity jackass, now didn't it? It'd just be interesting to hear how he'd ended up that way.  
  
"His heartbeat has recovered, and there doesn't seem to be brain damage," he heard Jean say, her voice afraid. "But we'll have to keep watch on those burns," she continued, motioning to the two vaguely hand-shaped spots where the charge had entered his body.  
  
"We need to find her, now," said Storm, anger clipping her words. "She can't control this at all- she'll kill somebody."  
  
"I will find her, Ororo," assured the Professor quietly. "She does indeed need to learn control, but I think right now she mostly needs assurance that we are not her enemies."  
  
"He was trying to give her a hug, Professor."  
  
"So who exactly is this?" asked Wolverine as he leaned against the wall.  
  
"The girl was Aubrey Lowe. She's a seventeen-year-old Nationals-level swimmer, and her powers just manifested about five hours ago," said the Professor calmly. "Electricity seems to be her main power, though we're not sure if there are more yet."  
  
"Scott and I went to get her," continued Storm, "and she gave Scott quite a jolt."  
  
"You sure are good with kids," said Wolverine helpfully.  
  
"Better than you," retorted Storm, more than a little annoyed.  
  
"Shush, you two. I'll have none of this quarreling. I am going to look for her with Cerebro, and then I will make a decision of what to do."  
  
----  
  
A cardboard box was no protection against the rain, as the girl shivering inside had swiftly realized. It was no real place to spend the night, either, and Aubrey couldn't sleep. There were too many people coming by, too many faces to hide from. There was no way to know how many of the people that passed were just looking for a girl to come by, waiting for a chance to have some fun. Even after the sun rose again, she stayed put for a while, trying desperately to get at least a little rest.  
  
Footsteps rang outside her hiding place again, and she ducked farther back into her box, trying to hide herself from view.  
  
"Are you done shocking people now?" asked the white-haired woman, poking her head into Aubrey's box.  
  
"No, I actually find it quite amusing" replied Aubrey, annoyed. "How the hell did you find me, anyway?"  
  
"You are not the only one gifted with special powers," a man said softly outside. "I help many like you, and my powers allow me to find you."  
  
Poking her head out, Aubrey found the speaker quickly. A bald man sat quietly in a wheelchair, seemingly unperturbed by the rain falling around him. Well, thought Aubrey, I'm definitely not the biggest freak around, am I? Somehow, though, she felt a lot calmer. Unlike the woman and man before, this man didn't look in the least threatening, though she had a gut feeling there was far more to him than his appearance.  
  
He smiled slightly, and continued, "You are not a freak, Aubrey. Your abilities are something to be treasured, not abhorred. You do have a lot to learn, but we can help you there."  
  
Aubrey slumped back down, unsure of what to think. This man was obviously psychic, and the woman had a feeling of power to her as well.  
  
"What am I, anyway?" she asked, though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer.  
  
"You are a mutant, Aubrey," said the man quietly. "But you are not alone. I run a school where you would be most welcome, where our powers can be trained and respected, not feared. Do you wish to enroll in such a safe haven, if only until you can gain enough control to be safe around yourself and others?"  
  
It was worth considering, surely, even if she wasn't sure of the place at all. There were indications, however, that it was a hell of a lot better than a cardboard box on an unknown street corner, and if all else failed, she could run away again. Besides, a school full of mutants had to have at least some interesting aspects.  
  
Her decision made, Aubrey cocked her head to the side and queried, "You got enough food for a hungry swimmer?" 


	2. East Coast School

Apparently, giving the man- or anyone, for that matter- a good jolt had not been Aubrey's best course of action, or at least that seemed to be the gist of the lecture the woman was giving her. Aubrey felt slightly guilty for ignoring most of it, but only slightly. After all, she'd known it wasn't her best course of action at the time, she just lacked the ability to say, "Abracadabra!" and have this stupid power go off on its merry way.  
  
The woman seemed to be finishing up though, and Aubrey dragged herself back to the job of listening intently. Or at least looking like she was, which was indeed made easier by the fact that the woman was flying the jet, and thus couldn't stop to take a look back at Aubrey.  
  
"-and that is why it is important to control your powers, Aubrey. The burns, the neurological damage, the heart failure... you don't really want to cause these things, do you? You don't want to test your luck when people's lives are on the line," the woman finished.  
  
Testing your luck is fun though, thought Aubrey. Aloud, she only asked about something else she'd been wondering.  
  
"What're your names, anyway? You seem quite familiar with mine."  
  
"Oh dear, I am sorry," the man replied unhappily. His wheelchair was strapped into the back of the jet, across from where Aubrey sat. Though the woman was piloting the thing, Aubrey got the impression she'd be far more comfortable as a passenger.  
  
"I am Professor Charles Xavier, although many of my students prefer to call me Professor X or simply Professor. My companion is Ororo Munroe, or Storm as many of the children like to call her."  
  
Children, thought Aubrey. That brought up more questions.  
  
"So this school- does it teach normal curriculum or just train our... powers?" she asked, pausing slightly.  
  
"We strive to both increase students' knowledge and their mental control," the Professor replied evenly.  
  
Ouch. Two rounds of school in one, thought Aubrey as she continued her inquiry.  
  
"How old are the kids? People my age, or just ikkle tykes?"  
  
"Students at the School range in age from five to eighteen, though many older mutants stay to work as teachers or hone their skills."  
  
"Is Storm a teacher, then? Are you, or is Professor more of an image thing?"  
  
"Yes, Ororo is a teacher; she instructs the older students- like yourself- in world history. I teach higher level calculus and metaphysics."  
  
"Is there a pool?" she asked, hopeful. Both Xavier and Storm laughed, having seen how it had taxed her to wait so long before asking.  
  
"Yes, indeed," replied Storm from the front. "But you'll have to wait a while for us to get you a place and some clothes before you can go down there."  
  
"Where does everybody stay? Dorms?"  
  
"We have a large campus, and the students stay in dorms with others of their gender. The dorms are also separated by age; you'll be staying with the high school girls."  
  
"Yay. No ikkle tykes for me, then."  
  
"You do realize, Aubrey, that to me, you are little more than an 'ikkle tyke'?" said the Professor, amused.  
  
Looking back at him, Aubrey grinned and put her thumb in her mouth, then stuck her tongue out at him. Shaking his head, the Professor continued, "I think you'll fit in quite well."  
  
"How do you fly this thing around without getting caught?"  
  
"It flies faster than the human eye can see, and if you haven't noticed, we also try to fly it mostly at night," replied the Professor. "Though if you're interested, I'll bet you could find someone to explain it to you in much more detail than you ever wanted," he continued, and from the sparkle in his eyes, she could see that he had a specific person in mind. "Storm also regularly provides cover for the jet."  
  
Nice, thought Aubrey. I wanna take this out for a spin... bet a barrel roll would be fun in this thing.  
  
"Here we are," said the Professor happily as the jet began its descent. As the jet came down to hover over a landing pad, he continued, "Welcome to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, Aubrey."  
  
"And Dad never believed me when I told him I'd go to an East Coast School," murmured Aubrey, grinning.  
  
----  
  
The landing pad was even more of an elaborate operation than Aubrey first guessed, and as soon as she saw how the sub-level was organized, she was determined to explore as much of it as possible over her time here.  
  
She didn't get the chance to start, however, as the two older mutants went to each side of her like trained bodyguards. They led her down a shining silver hall, reminding Aubrey of the spaceships in old sci-fi movies. When they came to a circular elevator that looked like it belonged in Star Trek, the Professor wheeled around to face her.  
  
"Storm will help you find clothes and situate you in your dorm. I regret that I must now return to my administrative duties, but I will speak with you again later," he said as he watched the doors slide silently open. Then he rolled inside and disappeared as the doors closed again.  
  
Aubrey's flip-flop's seemed deafening as she followed Storm further down the hall. The older woman ducked into a storage room to their left. Opening various cabinets, she questioned Aubrey for her measurements and then took out assorted items and gave them to Aubrey. Pajamas, t-shirts, sweatshirts, and even, Aubrey was ecstatic to see, a swimsuit joined the pile, now a mass of grey, white and black. Everything had an "X" logo, and Aubrey saw nothing colored until Storm threw two pairs of Levi's on top of the pile, almost as an afterthought.  
  
Seeing Aubrey's look, Storm grinned. "Xavier wouldn't buy jeans until we made him listen to every kid who came through and complained. And you can go shopping later if you want to; these are just to make sure you have a few clean things.  
  
----  
  
The dorm Storm took her to was a long room on the second floor with beds lining its walls. It was in general disarray, though it was still easy to see where each girl's space ended. The beds on each side were divided into pairs, and each pair shared a dresser. Large chests on the end of each bed provided even more storage space, and doors at the end of the room led off to large bath- and dressing-rooms.  
  
Placing her few belongings in the chest at the bottom of her bed, Aubrey waved goodbye to Storm, who said she had a few things to check on. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a white tank top, Aubrey headed down the hallway to the dressing rooms. After a slightly unpleasant shock at realizing they reminded her strongly of fitting rooms in a mall, she slipped into the nearest one and changed out of her dirty clothes.  
  
Tossing her dirty clothes in a laundry bag Storm had pointed out, Aubrey headed out herself, wondering where exactly the student body here chose to spend a Saturday afternoon as she slid down the polished wood banister to the ground floor.  
  
As she walked through the corridor, she began finding students. Two her own age were making out in a corner, and she resisted the urge to suggest they get a room. Other, smaller students were running around, apparently playing a large game of tag in which the whole first floor was fair game. As they whizzed by, Aubrey thought she smelled pizza from one of the nearby rooms, and headed off to investigate.  
  
Indeed, there was pizza, and the rest of the kitchen held things that look no less appetizing. Aubrey opened a large refrigerator and grabbed the makings for sandwiches, and began a quest to find some bread. After a few minutes of looking through cabinets, she found one full of assorted loaves of bread, with more styles and kinds than you'd find in your local supermarket.  
  
As Aubrey was piling several slices of bread high with turkey, vegetables, and mayo, she heard a voice behind her.  
  
"I suppose we do feed everybody that wanders in here, but most of them take things a bit at a time, not grab all the food they see and run," said a dark-haired guy around Aubrey's age.  
  
"Hey, I'm hungry," she said, shrugging as she took a large bite out of one of those sandwiches.  
  
"Even less often that you find a girl doing that," he continued, grinning.  
  
"Well, most girls have gotten something to eat in the last twenty-four hours. And most of them don't have an appetite."  
  
The boy laughed. "Well, well. Finally a new kid with a sense of humor. What's your name?"  
  
"Aubrey Lowe," she responded, finishing off the first sandwich and starting on her second.  
  
"You're the one that knocked out Cyclops, aren't you?" he asked, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement.  
  
"Guess so," she replied. "Where'd you find something to drink around here?"  
  
"There's another fridge round the corner," replied another boy, this one blond haired.  
  
"Name's Pyro," said the first boy, clicking his lighter and playing with a ball of flame.  
  
"Show off," muttered the second boy, whipping his hand over the fire and freezing it. Pyro dropped it and glared at the second boy. "I'm Bobby," he continued, ignoring Pyro's look. 


	3. Good Service

"Nice to meet you both," said Aubrey, her face buried in the refrigerator. "Is anything in here _not_ pop?" she said, looking around with disgust.

"What's wrong with pop?" asked Pyro, sounding somewhat astounded.

"I don't drink pop around competition time," replied Aubrey, finally fishing a bottle of lemonade out of the back of the fridge.

"What kind of competition?" cut in Bobby before Pyro had time to make another smart remark.

"Nationals swimming. Though I guess I won't be doing that for a while."

"You _like_ water?" asked Pyro. Aubrey grinned, guessing that the boy's mutation probably gave him a certain dislike for the substance.

"Oh, is the Human Match afraid of a little iddy bitty bit of water?" she asked evilly, flicking a little water from the sink at him. He ducked quickly, and she could feel the room warming slightly as he blushed.

"So much for getting a decent recruit," said Pyro grumpily. "And I was so hopeful."

"Says the narcissistic, histrionic kid. He may be obsessive-compulsive too, the shrinks aren't sure yet," taunted Bobby, a wry grin on his face.

"Hey, at least I'm not schizo. That's what they thought when my powers manifested."

"You two are hopeless," said Aubrey, grinning. "But nowhere near as hopeless as my brothers, and people tell me they have some redeeming qualities. Now, do either of you know how to get around this place, or do I have to find some sane guys around here?"

"That'd be a problem," retorted Bobby. "No one around here's sane."

"And that's just how we like it," finished Pyro.

She felt frost under her fingers as she tried to take a sip of her lemonade. Nothing came out of the bottle, and she shot Bobby a glare. He only grinned back, and Pyro rolled his eyes.

"You call _me_ a histrionic show-off," he said, smirking.

"C'mon," replied Bobby, totally ignoring his friend. "The campus is big, and if we want to give you a decent tour by dinner, we need to get going."

_Whoever said flirting wasn't the easiest way to get a little help_? thought Aubrey, smirking slightly.

"First of all, the most important tour:" began Bobby. "This is the main kitchen, and- as you've now found- the sandwich fixings and general snacks are in that fridge, drinks are in that one…"

"Except for the fun stuff, like Wolverine's beer, but it's really not a good idea to steal that anyway," remarked Pyro.

"You _would_ know," remarked Bobby.

"Like you don't."

"Fair enough," replied Bobby, unperturbed. "There is pretty much any other food you could want available with all the takeout people get and such, but generally ask around before grabbing it. Some of us are kinda protective of our food."

"Do people eat in or go out most of the time?" asked Aub, curious. The little amount of time she was home she almost always ate in, but at school she'd had lunch out all the time.

"A mix. Tons of people have cars and stuff, but generally the Professor likes to be really sure that you can and will control your powers before he lets you out," replied Bobby.

Aubrey looked down into her lemonade, silenced. _Control_. The confidence she'd regained evaporated, and she wished she was alone. She couldn't fix what she'd already done, and she had no control to insure that it wouldn't happen again. She was surprised, even, that the Professor had let her out amongst the other mutants- what had happened to Cyclops told her that she could certainly hurt them too. Sarah's face leered in her mind's eye, and she shuddered slightly.

"You okay?" asked Bobby, sounding concerned.

"Um… yeah," answered Aubrey quietly, rubbing her temple to try and rid herself of the tension headache that had just formed there. "Just tired, I think. I didn't really sleep at all last night, and it just kinda… hit me."

Both of them looked at her for a second, and she could see in their eyes that they didn't fully believe her, but understood the feeling nonetheless.

"If you need anything, feel free to find us. It's a small enough place, if you ask around someone'll know where we are," said Pyro quietly, though she could tell from the slightly jaunty tone of his voice that he was quite proud to be so known.

"This place has great service, that's for sure," teased Aubrey, though she knew it still sounded a little forced.

-----

Surprising herself, Aubrey actually did head to sleep, not even bothering to strip out of her jeans. Not all of what she'd told the guys had been a lie: her sleep the night before had been both short and erratic, and now with the stress of the new day, she was dead tired.

Her dreams were not easy- she kept remembering the pool. The thoughts roamed from the moment she'd first felt something and kept ending on Sarah's face- somehow Aubrey doubted she'd ever forget that expression. Then they roamed further- to the lifeguard's touch, to the water on the floor, and then to the other swimmer, gasping shallowly and looking blankly up at the ceiling, her eyes twitching as if she was watching some epilepsy-inducing, fast-paced movie. The sirens screaming, the water on the ground, and then the scary, overwhelming guilt as her competitor's jolting gaze met her own.

Aubrey sat straight up in bed, unsure of what had awakened her, but glad to be released from the endless nightmare cycle. Looking around, she was surprised to find no light anywhere. And then it hit her: _control. Powers_. She'd blown the lights, and maybe more.

She didn't seem to have had any ill affect on those around her, but who knew what could happen if she went back to sleep?

_You might actually_ get _some sleep_, suggested a voice in her head, startling her once more. She recognized the Professor's calming tones a moment later.

_Do you_ ever _sleep_? she asked, amazed.

_I have a tendency to notice when someone's mental state is violently disturbed. I also try to watch out for new students in their first day or two. _

_How do you learn control? I blew out something… I could've hurt someone else! I could've hurt the other girls, I could've hurt Bobby or Pyro, I mean, look what I did to Cyclops… _

_Control will come over time. I suspect for now that, provided you can keep a relatively stable emotional state- hard for a teenager, I know- you may not have any more trouble. _

_So all I can do is try to stay calm? _

_For now. Tomorrow I can show you a little bit more and see if we can keep you from having any more large-scale accidents. Also, I might be a little more optimistic about your situation: Cyclops will make a full recovery, as, it appears, will your competitors; and even if you do accidentally shock anyone else, it is unlikely your emotions will be strong enough to do any real harm. So do try to sleep some more. You've got a big day tomorrow. _

_So I shouldn't be thinking anything I don't want you to hear for the next couple days? _

Laughter sounded in her mind. _I teach a school full of primarily teenagers. It would not be the first time_, he said, sounding amused. As an afterthought, he added, _Remember to come and see me tomorrow morning. We need to get you a class schedule. _

_Goodnight, Professor. _

_Goodnight, Aubrey_, replied the Professor, carefully reaching into her consciousness to put her back to sleep.

-----

Light peeked under the hall door when Aubrey awoke early the next morning, and she observed it with relief. She crept into the bathrooms to take a shower, checking carefully that no one else was around- whatever the Professor might say, she still wanted to be careful around water- and headed to the main floor after throwing on jeans and a t-shirt. She shook her wet hair slightly, still a little disturbed by the odd blonde.

The Professor's voice in her mind guided her to his office, and she stepped in quietly.

"Hello, Aubrey," he said cordially. "I acquired your school records last night, and I believe I may have a schedule to work for you."

"Acquired?" asked Aubrey, an eyebrow rising. She wasn't sure how he could have gotten her grades and schedule without talking to her school or her dad, and she wasn't really sure she wanted either to know where she was.

"Acquired. Don't worry, you will have say in when and how we arrange for an official transfer," he said, calming her. "Now, your grades were quite good, though your attendance- to put it lightly- was bad. I suppose swimming took you out often?"

"Yessir," responded Aubrey. "I did most of my work on the road or in hotel rooms."

"Since we have no competitive swim team, and since I- and, I'm fairly sure, the regulators- would prefer if you did not compete in water sports for a while," Aubrey nodded gravely. It was unlikely she would be able to swim competitively again, let alone at the level she once had. "I expect your attendance to be much better. Now, is this class schedule to your liking?" he asked, turning his computer screen to face her.

"Advanced English, Physics and Mechanics, Spanish, Calculus, Chemistry, Photography and World History," she read. "That sounds about right- but where _is_ everything?"

The Professor smiled. "I'll print you a map, but I'm fairly sure you'll find no shortage of help from the other students."

-----

Much to her chagrin, Aubrey found that by the time she found her English class, they were in the midst of a heated discussion that went silent as she entered the room. Looking around, she was comforted to find Bobby sitting in a back corner. He grinned at her when she saw him, but she noticed no free seats around him as she walked slowly to the teacher's desk. She was overly conscious of the whispering that started behind her as the teacher went through the rote introductions and the dampness of her still-drying hair. She was glad to find that she'd already read the book he tipped into her hands- _A Tale of Two Cities_- but it was not without some trepidation that she went to her seat.

As the lesson progressed, Aubrey was a comforted to find that though the class had taken a different tactic on their examination of the book, she could still generally understand- and enjoy- the fast-paced discussion. It was less comforting to find that most people didn't seem very interested in meeting a new student, but it occurred to her as she watched them that they also seemed, for the moment, wholly occupied with the class discussion: they weren't ignoring her on purpose, they just found this a class to pay attention to.

As she left, she found Bobby coming towards her, holding hands with a girl who'd sat not far from her. _Damn_, she thought. _It figures that the cutest one would already be taken_, she thought laughingly.

"Aubrey, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Rogue," he said jovially. "Rogue, Aubrey."

"Good to meet you," said Rogue, he voice carrying a hint of Southern drawl. The hand she extended as Aubrey returned the pleasantries was gloved, and Aubrey noted curiously that almost all her skin was carefully covered, even the hand that held her boyfriend's. Her hair was also unique, holding an interesting white streak on the locks that framed her face.

"Do you know where your next class is?" she asked kindly, and Aubrey was glad to see that she didn't appear to harbor any resentment towards other girls.

"Not really... the map's not really that detailed, it just says that it's by the garages," she replied, looking intently at the offending map once more. She could've sworn the Professor provided a map that was just a little too small so she'd _have_ to talk to people- not that she didn't meet enough new people on her own. _Tricky_, she thought, with a little admiration.

"Mechanics stuff?" asked Bobby. "Rion takes that… Hey! Rion!" he yelled at a tall, dark-haired boy approaching them. As the boy came towards them, Aubrey saw that he was athletically built, with curly brown hair that hung down around his ears and into his face in a way that forced him to flip it out of his blue eyes ever so often.

"Rion, would you care to show the lady to mechanics?" Bobby asked smoothly, and Rogue gave him a sidelong look and rolled her eyes expressively at Aubrey, who grinned.

"Well, well," said Rion, "I suppose I could. You're sure she actually _takes_ mechanics? You've gotten my hopes up before… almost no girls take mechanics," he said, by way of explanation, as he looked at Bobby. "You haven't been in Wolverine's beer stash again, have you?"

Rogue butted in, "Don't mind him, Aubrey, he's always like this. Mutant High's resident drama king," she said, giving him a wry grin.

"Mind not the harridan over there," he said to Aubrey, his nose in the air. "I will escort you to mechanics, my lady, and fight off all monsters and Rogues that come our way," he continued, sticking his tongue out at Rogue as he offered his arm to Aubrey, who took it with some amusement.

As they headed away from the couple, Rion continued, "As you may have heard, I am the High and Honorable Rion."

"Just how high?" asked Aubrey evilly.

"You would impugn my honor!" Rion put a hand to his heart, sounding offended.

"Maybe. I'm the Lowly and Impertinent Aubrey, at your service," she continued.

"Now, that is no name for one so fair!" he cried. "What about Aubrey the Great but Evilly Humored?"

"And Rion the Egregious Actor," retorted Aubrey. Rion broke out into loud laughter as they entered the mechanics room. Aubrey was pleased to see that there was no shortage of good humor in the school. "What's your power, anyway?" she asked as they both sat down to desks in the middle of the room, Rion having assured her that the teacher didn't care where anyone sat. Rion reached behind him and drew out a flower, which he handed to Aubrey with greatest care before cracking up once more as it squirted her in the face with a little stream of water.

"You can create bad jokes?" she asked, sounding astounded. "I could tell you were full of them, but I had no idea I was in the presence of their very _source_."

Rion chuckled. "If I concentrate, I can create just about anything. It's just harder to make bigger or more complex things."

"Sweet. Probably helps when you forget your homework," she mused.

"Actually, not so much. If I want to make a paper or something, I have to think of everything on the paper too- rewrite it in my head. I'm getting better at it, but I still can't replicate the whole homework by any stretch."

"Ouch. Worth a shot, though, I suppose," she said, before gulping when she saw the teacher entering the room. She sunk in her seat as she recognized the red sunglasses and saw the look of recognition when he saw her. This was going to be an uncomfortable period.

Rion raised his eyebrows at her reaction. "Cyclops may look a little weird, with the glasses and all, but he's no big bad wolf. He's actually a pretty cool teacher."

"I had kind of a run-in with him before coming here," she said, by way of explanation.

"So you're _that_ one," he said thoughtfully.

"Does _everybody_ know about that?" she asked, a little annoyed.

"It's a small world, especially this corner of it," he replied solemnly, and Aub cocked an eyebrow slightly at his interesting use of idiom, but took it to heart.


End file.
